


swiftly flow the days

by catfishCaper



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: #JewishComicsDay, Bisexual Scott Lang, Canon Jewish Character, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, F/F, Gen, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Jewish Darcy Lewis, Jewish Foggy Nelson, Jewish Holidays, Jewish Jane Foster, Jewish Karen Page, Jewish Malcolm Ducasse, Jewish Marci Stahl, Jewish Natasha Romanov, Jewish Scott Lang, Jewish Tony Stark, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Pesach | Passover, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), background Jewish Sharon Carter, it's almost like there's a theme to this fic, pietro's that obnoxiously heterosexual eastern european guy we all know, please forgive me i haven't been to services in months, they're really vague spoilers and are mostly just copied dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7027744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catfishCaper/pseuds/catfishCaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenes from Wanda and Pietro's life after they join the Avengers. A lot of Shabbats, a lot of new friends, and a lot of love all around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	swiftly flow the days

**Author's Note:**

> #jewishcomicsday
> 
> tw for mention of the holocaust (it's the maximoffs, so..) and HYDRA (so, nazis)
> 
> title from Sunrise, Sunset because i'm a piece of trash

Captain America--or Steve, as they were supposed to call him--told Wanda and Pietro, on their first day in the United States, in a very gentle manner, that they didn’t have to do anything that made them uncomfortable. That they didn’t even have to fight if they didn’t want to, although of course their support would always be appreciated. Wanda and Pietro thanked him, and told him that of course they would fight evil wherever it could be found. It was kind of their job now.

They were perfectly content to stay in the facility upstate, training and improving their English and living in comfort they’d barely dared to dream of. Well, in the beginning. Wanda could see that Pietro would get bored soon, and probably start disappearing to explore the surrounding area.

However, their fourth day in the United States, Tony Stark made them to go New York City to be paraded in front of hundreds of of his rich “friends.” Steve at least had the decency to apologize for him.

Having to relive watching their home be destroyed over and over for strangers was not exactly Wanda and Pietro’s idea of a good time. So when Stark finished his speeches and grandstanding and they were told to go mingle, the pair of them escaped.

With powers like theirs, it was child’s play. They weren’t even in Stark’s Tower, given that it had been half destroyed so very recently. It was some fancy banquet hall in Midtown, with normal security. No omnipresent AI with a foreign accent to be found.

Pietro took them south a few blocks before stopping so they could talk properly. “So, sister,” he drawled, popping open the top two buttons of his shirt that cost more than the rest of all their clothes put together, “it’s Friday night in one of the biggest cities in the world. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

She didn’t have to read his mind to be able to grin and say, “Of course, brother.”

About a minute later found them joining a small crowd of people entering a synagogue in a slightly more run down neighborhood than Stark’s event had been in. They found empty seats together in the very back of the sanctuary. Pietro clipped a borrowed yarmulke on. Wanda grabbed them each a prayer book.

“Shabbat shalom, everyone!” said the rabbi from the bima. The congregation responded in kind. The rabbi talked a few minutes about the recent events in Sokovia, and then had the cantor start on a song neither of the twins knew but sang along with to the best of their ability.

Pietro couldn’t remember the last time they’d been to Shabbat services together. Wanda probably could, with that steel trap of a mind she had, but his thoughts and memories raced by too fast for him to remember little details like that with any kind of clarity. Still, the words for the prayers fell easily from their months. Some details of the melodies were different, but they barely had to follow along with the Hebrew in their books.

When the rabbi asked the congregation to name those they were mourning for, they stayed silent.

The service felt too short, for all that it was probably actually about an hour long. They had missed this more than they had realized. The rabbi concluded it with notes about upcoming community events, and a reminder that there would be challah and grape juice in the synagogue’s dining room for anyone who wanted to partake. The twins exchanged glances. It couldn’t hurt to go, right?

Wanda thought to check her phone as they were leaving the sanctuary with the rest of the congregation. She had 24 unread text messages and 5 missed calls. Thank god she had left her phone on silent. Most of the messages and all of the calls were from Steve, asking where they were. One was from Stark, and it just said, _Rude._ There were also a few from the Black Widow informing them that their phones had trackers, that she knew where they were, and that she’d keep Steve off their backs. Wanda turned the phone on vibrate just in case.

They made it to the dining room and each took a hunk of bread and a cup of grape juice. The crust was hard but the inside was soft. It was a little different from how their parents taught them to make it, and there were no sesame seeds on the loaf they took from, but they still agreed it was good.

“Ooh, what do we have here? Newbies?” They turned toward the voice. A man with shoulder length blond hair, who was a little shorter than Wanda in her heels, was there, holding his own bread and juice. He beamed at them.

“Uh, yes. We just, ah, moved here,” Wanda told him. He seemed to notice her accent and nodded understandingly.

“Where are you from? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Sokovia,” Pietro informed him.

The man’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Oh gosh. I’m so sorry--”

“Please, do not.”

“I--uh--jeez. Okay. Well. I’m Foggy, Foggy Nelson, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m from, uh. Here. Hell’s Kitchen, born and raised!” he informed them, trying to be cheerful. “I’d shake your hands, but…”

“It is fine,” Wanda reassured him. “I am Wanda. This is Pietro. We are actually living upstate but we were in the City and thought we should come to Shabbat.”

“Upstate, huh? With all the rich kids?” Wanda and Pietro grinned. He had no idea. “Well, if you ever need a lawyer while you’re in the neighborhood, look me up. I can give you a friends and family discount!” He leaned in a little close. “Although I don’t think it counts as a discount if I give it to everyone.”

“No, probably not,” Pietro told him.

“Better than my partner. If it were up to him we’d probably go pro bono on every case.” Foggy rolled his eyes. “Between me and our secretary--Karen, she’s not here tonight but if you come back you might be able to meet her, she comes here too--it’s a wonder we stay afloat.”

“That sounds very, uh, noble of your partner, though,” Wanda pointed out.

“Yeah, he’s all about helping people,” Foggy grumbled. “What about you? What do you guys do?”

“We are…” Pietro looked at Wanda desperately. He could think fast but that didn’t mean but what he thought of was all that good.

“We are consultants. For a large firm. Upstate, as we said,” she cut in smoothly. “We help them with, ah, mostly overseas work? And, hmm, running things around.” Pietro snorted. “All very top secret important type things.”

“You know, with how good you are vague explanations, I bet you’d make a hell of a lawyer,” Foggy told her. Pietro snickered. Wanda knew he was thinking that was not the only thing Wanda had in her arsenal that would make her a good lawyer.

“That is very, ah, kind of you to say?”

Foggy chuckled. “Hey, want me to introduce you to some people? Karen’s not here, or Marci, my ex, but uh…” He looked around the room. “Malcolm!”

A black man who looked about their age came over when Foggy called. He was rather good looking, and was wearing a nice blue button down. “What’s up?”

“I want you to meet Wanda and Pietro. They’re living upstate but they were in town and wanted to come to services.”

“That’s cool. I’m Malcolm. I live in town, I’m an assistant to my friend who’s a PI.” He smiled at them.

“We are consultants,” Pietro told him seriously. “Very important work. But it is nice to meet you, Malcolm.”

“If you ever need to find a cheating girlfriend or whatever, or need someone to serve legal stuff, me and Jessica are your guys.” He handed them a business card. “If you’re ever in town, that is. I don’t think she’d go all the way upstate if you bought her booze for a month.”

“Ah, Jessica. Quite the character,” Foggy said.

Wanda’s phone vibrated. It was another text message from the Black Widow. She opened it to find it was actually a picture, specifically a selfie taken in front of the synagogue. There was a caption. _Ready to go when you are :)_

“Our ride is here,” she told Pietro, showing him the picture. He snorted at it. “It was very nice to meet the both of you,” she said with a nod to Foggy and Malcolm.

Foggy was peering at the photo, though. “Is that...the Black Widow?”

“That is, as we said, top secret important type things,” Pietro replied with a wink, before they left, throwing their empty paper cups in the trash on their way out.

“Have fun?” Natasha drawled as they climbed into the sleek red car she had come in. “No, no, Wanda, you sit up front. I’m not your chauffer.” So Wanda got out and got in the passenger’s seat, leaving Pietro in the back.

“It was very nice. Too bad we won’t be able to go back, though,” Pietro replied.

“Oh, you might be able to,” Natasha responded breezily. “Stark’s pretty pissed the two of you ditched his thing. And Steve was worried sick for the five minutes between realizing you were gone and me calming him down. You might have to do a little damage control.”

“But, Miss Widow,” Wanda said innocently, “do you think they would really take offense to us trying to find connection to our people in big scary new environment?” She gazed up at Natasha and fluttered her eyelashes unsubtly.

Natasha laughed. “That might work on Stark, if you play up the whole ‘but we are poor Eastern European children and you are a rich American and we were so intimidated’ thing. But Steve’ll see through it. You’re gonna have to actually apologize to him.”

“Well, we will not apologize to Stark for anything,” Pietro said snidely, “but the Captain is not so bad as we originally thought.”

“You should invite him next time. I think he’d like that,” Natasha recommended.

“To Shabbat? Is he Jewish?” Wanda asked, surprised.

“No, but his best friend growing up was. So he might like it. But quite a few of the rest of us are, so you won’t be alone, and you won’t have to worry.”

“Who?”

“Well, myself, for starters,” Natasha said with a sly grin to Wanda. “And Stark, though he doesn’t really observe. Plus, Thor’s girlfriend Jane and her assistant, Darcy, though I don’t think you’ll meet them any time soon.”

“Pity,” sighed Pietro. “We have no interest in goyische girls. Not that there are ever any girls besides you and my sister around ever anyway, it seems.”

“We?” Natasha cast Wanda a side eye.

“Is this a problem?”

“Not at all.” Natasha smiled. Wanda smiled hesitantly back. Natasha turned her eyes back to the road. Despite it being a Friday evening in Manhattan, they were getting back to the venue remarkably quickly. Not as quickly as if Pietro had just run them there, though.

The party was still in full swing when they got back, which thankfully kept Stark from yelling at them for disappearing. Unfortunately, this meant they were still required to mingle with the guests, all rich white American types, the kind whose equivalents back in Sokovia would have turned their noses up at them for being various words Wanda didn’t even want to repeat in her head. She doubted Stark had told any of his rich friends that his new teammates were Rroma Jews.

“You must have been so _frightened_ , spending all that time with Ultron!” said an old lady with too much jewelry. She put a hand on Wanda’s arm. “But you’re in America now, and this is the safest country in the world!”

“Was Ultron not created in America?” Wanda asked. The woman scowled at her and removed her arm. Good. Had she not, Wanda might have been tempted to remove it for her, and not in a kind manner at all. “And the aliens, did they not attack here in New York City? We saw it on the news, and we thought, good thing we are not in America right now.”

The woman stalked off, muttering something about ungrateful foreigners. Wanda sipped her drink. Non-alcoholic, because she had seen what liquor did to her powers. Pietro had no such qualms, and was drinking merrily with Hawkeye at the open bar. Perhaps she would join them.

Natasha sidled up to her. “You’re just going to make Stark madder if you keep alienating all his guests. I mean, he doesn’t care if _he’s_ the one doing it, but anyone else, he gets pissy.”

“Stark owes me more than he can ever give. Forgive me if I treat his rude guests with same level of respect they do me.”

“I’m sorry I had to pick you up from the temple. You could have stayed longer if you wanted, you know.”

“I did not know. And neither did Pietro, obviously. But it is kind of you to apologize. We were making friends. A lawyer and an assistant to a PI, he said?”

“Private investigator. You keep the most interesting company, Miss Maximoff.”

“When you say that to me, what does that say about you, Miss Widow?”

“Oh, please, call me Natasha. Romanov. Natasha Romanov’s my full name.”

Wanda nodded. “Miss _Romanov_. Russia?”

“Da.” Natasha winked at her. Blood rushed to Wanda’s cheeks. Well, Natasha was a very lovely woman. Attraction was not unusual. Wanda was sure many people had succumbed to the Black Widow’s charms in the past, no one could blame her if she ended up forming a...small crush.

“Russian is our second language. After Sokovian, obviously, though native Sokovian speakers are decreasing all the time. It’s similar to the situation in Belarus, I think,” Wanda said in Russian. “Since we were formerly part of the Soviet bloc, we all learn it in school.”

“Do you speak any other languages?”

“English, of course. We know a bit of Hebrew, a bit of Yiddish, though it’s been years since we formally studied. Papa liked to speak German at home, and Mama liked to speak Polish sometimes. That was where they were from originally. So we could get by on those if we really had to.”

“How did they end up in Sokovia?”

“Our parents were...older than most of the other children’s. They lived through many things that are difficult to talk about. They met as young teenagers, when it was between what was then the part of Russia that spoke the Sokovian dialect and Israel. What was left of their families chose Europe, and they sort of...fell together? That is not to say they didn’t love each other. But that is how it was.”

“I see.” But there was still some confusion under Natasha’s expression.

“I can explain better after talking over it with my brother. Now is just not the right time.”

“I understand.”

The ensuing silence was a little awkward. Natasha took it as an opportunity to melt back into the crowd. Wanda decided to join her brother and watch him grow increasingly drunk with the archer. Eventually, he started to tilt a little too far, and even Wanda couldn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth, so they were allowed to go back to the hotel they were staying at for the night.

* * *

They refused to apologize to Stark, but they did tell Steve they were sorry for worrying him, and, as Natasha suggested, invited him to the next Shabbat service they went to. There was a synagogue in the town closest to the new facility, so the three of them went the next Friday night. They invited Natasha, but she gave them a “hard pass.” They did not invite Stark.

Steve had a much harder time following along, and was nervous he’d get recognized as he wasn’t allowed to wear his standard “baseball cap and sunglasses” disguise, but as the service went on Wanda could feel his agitation lessening. He let the swelling voices carry his mood and he found himself much calmer at the end than at the beginning.

He didn’t want to stay after that week, or the next, but when it started to become clear that either no one recognized him or they did but weren’t going to do anything about it, he let them linger and talk to people there, introduce themselves. Pietro took this as an opportunity to start chatting up a pretty girl he’d had his eye on. Wanda mostly stayed by Steve in case he got overwhelmed. Apparently one time when she’d gone to the bathroom he’d been mobbed by about four old ladies demanding to know if she was his girlfriend.

When she told Natasha the story, Natasha said, “Well, I can’t miss that,” and agreed to come with them the next time.

Sipping grape juice out of a paper cup with Natasha, watching Pietro, trying and failing to charm a vet’s assistant, and Steve, batting off little old ladies who wanted to know if he would be interested in dating their daughters with a stick, was a lot more fun than Wanda would have thought. If someone had told her three months ago this would be her life she would have laughed in their face.

“Steve’s friend who was Jewish. What happened to him? Why is he no longer around?” Wanda asked Natasha.

Natasha blinked. “Do you not...know the Captain America story?”

Wanda shook her head. “We may have left the Soviet bloc but that doesn’t mean we learned a whole lot about American heroes. We really only know about Stark, because he was so...public about coming out as a hero.”

“Well, I’ll just tell you the common knowledge stuff. Steve was born back in the late 1910’s, around the end of the first World War--”

“He is that old? He does not look it.”

“I’ll explain. He grew up in New York, very frail, always getting sick. His mother died when he was a teenager, but he still had his best friend, Bucky. Bucky was Jewish. He was also drafted by WWII. Steve wanted to join the army more than anything, faked his enlistment forms a few times since he kept getting rejected, until finally he was picked up by a doctor named Erskine, a Jewish scientist. He gave Steve a super serum to make him, well.” She gestured at Steve, whose suit was a little small on him. It was not so bad to look at. “So he went to Europe to fight the Nazis, and he did, although he mostly just fought HYDRA, their science division.”

“Wait.” Wanda’s heart pounded in her chest. “HYDRA is a Nazi group?”

Natasha’s eyes widened. “You didn’t know?”

“Of course not! Had we known…” Her hands clenched into fists. The cup she held in her right was crushed.

Natasha whipped out her phone. Steve was over a few seconds later. “Time to go?” Natasha nodded.

“You take Wanda to the car. I’ll get Pietro.”

Steve led her to the car. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He looked so concerned. Wanda didn’t know how she felt about that. They had known each other for so little time.

She took a deep breath. “Is it true HYDRA is Nazi group?”

She heard Pietro gasp. So Natasha had gotten him out rather quickly.

“...Did the two of you not know?” he asked, brow furrowing. She supposed it probably had created some level of cognitive dissonance for the Avengers, the pair of them volunteering to be experimented on by HYDRA, given this new information.

“Our parents were in the _camps_. Do you really think we would have worked for them did we know?” Pietro shouted. Natasha looked around quickly, but the parking lot was still deserted. No one heard that outburst.

“Camps... _oh_.” Steve looked pained. “I’m, oh god, I’m so sorry. We should have--”

“I would like to go home, and not talk about this anymore right now,” Wanda stated, interrupting him. She looked at Pietro, still standing a few feet behind Steve. He nodded firmly.

“Of course. Of course. Let’s just get back to the facility. Nat, I’ll drive.” Steve opened the door for Wanda, then went and climbed into the driver’s seat. Wanda got in and scooted over so Pietro could sit next to her. Natasha took shotgun.

Pietro held Wanda in a one-armed hug the entire car ride. She leaned her head on his shoulder and held his free hand in both of hers. Neither of them bothered to tell Steve and Natasha that the home she meant was not the facility they were now headed to.

Wanda was planning on just heading to her room for the rest of the night, and she was sure Pietro was going to follow her. (They didn’t share a room, which was nice, but only sometimes. They did have just one wall between them. They were considering taking it out, or at least putting in a door. They ended up sleeping in each other’s beds half the time anyway.) Steve and Natasha would probably have no problem with that, but apparently other people did not get the message.

“You know, some people would consider it hurtful to not be invited on group outings, especially when those people are the ones supporting you and letting you live in their home.” There was Tony Stark, of all people, leaning against the door from the garage to the facility proper. Pietro glared at him.

“Not now, Stark,” Steve warned, positioning himself in front of the twins. Pietro no longer had his arm around Wanda’s shoulders, but they were holding hands. Pietro nodded slightly at Steve, as if to say, _really?_

She shrugged. _He trusts us, I guess._

They would talk about this later. After they talked about some other things, first.

“Listen, I get it. You don’t like me, there’s nothing I can do to fix the damage I’ve wreaked on your lives, yadda yadda. But you all could at _least_ tell me where you’re taking my cars when you live in my house.”

“Shabbat services, Tony. We’ve been taking them to the synagogue,” Natasha replied shortly. “Now is not the time to talk about that, though. I think the twins would like to be alone for a while.”

“But--he’s not even _Jewish_!” Tony pointed dramatically at Steve, who rolled his eyes.

“Can we please go? We would rather not discuss right now,” Pietro grumbled.

“You two never want to talk, all you do is glare at me while you eat my food and use my--”

“Why don’t we go talk about this right now? You and me,” suggested Steve. He walked up to Tony, grabbed his arm, and dragged him into the facility proper and far away from the twins.

“Sorry about him,” Natasha said awkwardly after a few moments.

“We owe him nothing, and yet he still expects us to let him monitor our every move. He can find out where we go and what we do when he--”

“I get it. I’ll help Steve explain. You guys just go...rest. If you want to talk about any of...what you’ve learned, you can find me or Steve in the morning. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to tell you whatever you need to know.”

Wanda nodded. “Thank you.” The twins headed off to Wanda’s room, where they spent the right, murmuring to each other in Sokovian, eventually falling asleep on top of each other on Wanda’s bed.

They found Steve the next morning (well, with how late they slept in, it was actually afternoon), and cornered him in a side living room that was rarely used.

“Natasha told me...that you fought HYDRA during the war. That is how she told me they were Nazis. I was asking her about you,” Wanda explained. “Would you mind, ah, telling us about your life? We know very little. And about your friend who made you go to synagogue with him.”

“Bucky?” Steve swallowed. “Sure, I can tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Start from the beginning,” Pietro told him, settling on a loveseat next to Wanda. Steve sat in one of the cushy armchairs.

“Well, for starters, Bucky never made me go with him, at least not in the beginning. I just sort of showed up with him, because I wanted to know where my only friend was going on Friday nights. And then as he got older he realized if I was there I wasn’t getting beat up in some alley without him there to help me out, so he started dragging me along. Lucky for us the rabbi didn’t really mind. I didn’t make him go to church with me, he couldn’t stand waking up that early anyhow.” Steve smiled, softly and fondly. “It was also pretty lucky for us Ma didn’t mind. I guess she thought of it the same way as Bucky, I wasn’t getting myself hurt. ‘Course, sometimes people came by to harass people, so I ended up going up against them, but that was for a good cause. I never did like bullies, you know. And neither did Bucky. He pulled me out of more scrapes anyone could count.”

“He sounds like a good friend,” Wanda said.

“He was.” Steve frowned. “Is.”

Wanda and Pietro looked at each other. What? “Is?” asked Pietro.

“It’s...complicated.” Steve sighed. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about that yet. No offense. It isn’t that I don’t trust the two of you, it’s just…”

“You trust us? Why?” asked Pietro.

Steve blinked. “Because we’re teammates. And I’m pretty sure by now we’re friends. Or was I reading that wrong?”

Wanda cleared her throat. “We have not had friends in long time. It can be hard, when you are in our situation…” She paused, searching for the right words in English. “But we are happy you consider us friends. I suppose there are worse to have than Captain America. So we are trusting you too, until you give us reason not too.”

“Friends!” confirmed Pietro.

Steve smiled at them. It was kind of adorable. He had a very kind face. “I’m glad.”

“Now, more about this Bucky!” said Pietro.

Ste chuckled. “Well, you woulda really liked him, no one could charm a girl like Bucky…”

* * *

Tony cornered them not long after. “I think we need to talk.”

“We do not want to talk.” He was blocking the door to Pietro’s bedroom, where they had both slept, but there was a large window, and Wanda could take out a wall if need be.

“Five minutes. Just five minutes, and then I’m out your hair for however long you want. Deal?”

Wanda and Pietro considered. “Three minutes. Go.”

“Okay. This whole thing where the two of you outright hate me? While living in my house? Not gonna fly. We’re supposed to be a team, plus it’s fucking rude. But I’m willing to meet you halfway here. Tell me whatever it is I did to make you like this, and I’ll do whatever I can to fix it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Pietro asked. Stark looked confused. “Did you just forget the part where our parents are dead because of you? The part where we--what is word--accidentally became Nazis because of you? The part where you created robot that tried to use our home to destroy entire world?”

The anger and frustration that had been on Stark’s face were gone now, replaced with guilt.

“Wait, did you really?” Wanda said. “Oh my god! I cannot believe this.”

“So it’s clear you two do have some good reasons to hate me. I’m...sorry. Clearly letting you live here is not going to be enough to get you to forgive me for how badly I’ve ruined your lives. But is there _anything_ that I can do?”

“We will never forgive you--” started Pietro.

“Give us back our parents,” Wanda started, putting her hand on her twin’s arm, “and that will be a first step.”

Tony stared at her, directly into her eyes. She stared back, a dare. “Challenge accepted,” he said finally, and walked off.

* * *

Steve seemed cheerier than usual the next week. Usually he was friendly, but a little reserved, like he had so much on his mind he was afraid some of it might come out if he talked too much and scare someone or something. But he was much more upbeat and energized, especially in training, which was both a blessing and a curse.

“What has you so happy?” asked Wanda after leg day. Pietro loved leg day. Wanda, not so much.

“Ah, was it that noticeable?” He smiled sheepishly. “My friend, Sam, I finally convinced him to move in. He’s the Falcon. An Avenger like us, and I haven’t seen him since the party before the whole Ultron...thing, so I’m excited. He’s a really great guy, you’ll like him.”

They did like Sam. He was very friendly, and didn’t talk about Sokovia or anything uncomfortable with them. He liked to tease Steve with them, and was fun to practice with, since he could fly. And he was an excellent cook, who totally look the whole kosher thing in stride and learned not to use their special kitchen. (The facility was large enough that their was a smaller, extra kitchen, and that was where Wanda cooked kosher food. They didn’t follow the stricter kosher rules, but it was good to have for if they ever wanted to have a friend from synagogue over, or just wanted to cook something that none of the others would touch. The threat of gefilte fish kept everyone else far enough away.)

He also told them that, if need be, he was also a great wingman. It took a second for the joke to sink in, but when it did, Wanda groaned and Pietro laughed and gave Sam a high five.

“Telling stupid jokes, Sam?” Natasha, who they didn’t know was there, asked. They had noticed she sometimes had a habit of being in rooms where other people were unnoticed, only announcing herself when she thought it would be most funny to do so. As it was, when she spoke, everyone jumped.

“I like these two,” he said instead of responding to Natasha’s question. “They’re fun. Especially this one,” he patted Pietro’s back, “but I’m sure you and me can find something to talk about.” He smiled at Wanda.

But Wanda was glad Pietro had someone to spend time with besides her. Steve and Natasha were nice, yes, but they weren’t the kind of people Pietro was comfortable getting close to. Stark was out of the question. Vision was more of a solitary being, and Wanda was pretty sure he made Pietro vaguely uncomfortable. Thor was never around. And Hawkeye was gone most of the time, which really put a damper on Pietro’s fun. But he seemed to really like Sam, which meant maybe now Wanda could spend more time with Steve or Natasha, who she got on surprisingly well with.

And not just because she was developing that embarrassing crush on Natasha.

She and Steve and Natasha all preferred to have time to relax throughout the day, whereas Pietro was nonstop all the time. Now that it wasn’t life or death that she keep up with him, she was enjoying slowing down, taking some time to stretch her abilities on her own terms. Where Pietro’s moves and abilities were more straightforward, Wanda’s were nebulous. She was constantly discovering new things she could do, but some things needed active participants. Natasha and Steve were more than willing to help her, and come up with team maneuvers for the next time they were out in the field.

Currently they were practicing her lifting them by strategic body parts without knocking them into anything or crushing their limbs. She had practiced on life-size dummies first, but now she was practicing on Steve.

“It’s okay if you mess up. I heal fast, remember? I’ve been hurt real bad before, you don’t need to worry about me.” He smiled reassuringly. He was wearing his full uniform, though, just in case.

“Just because you can take it does not mean I should not worry,” Wanda pointed out. Natasha, watching from the sidelines in exercise clothes, snorted.

“I know, I know. Just, you trust me, right?” Wanda nodded. “So put some of that trust on yourself and your own abilities. All right?”

She took a deep breath, and released the scarlet magic inside her. She curled it around Steve’s calves and upper arms, and very slowly lifted him into the air. So far, fine. Maybe there was somewhere else in the middle she could grab for stability? She released an extra burst of magic and wrapped it around his torso. Much more stable. An actual, heavy person was a lot more work to move than a dummy, though.

“I’m gonna try moving a little now!” Steve called from thirty feet in the air. Thank god for the vaulted ceilings in the training rooms. He wiggled his arms and legs a bit, then tried a few punches and kicks, then curled himself up into a ball. The faster he moved, the harder he was to keep in the air, but he was still going pretty slowly. Of course, in a real fight, he wouldn’t be able to go slowly, but the progress they were making today was still good.

Wanda was beginning to get a tired, though, with how heavy Steve is and how much magic she was using to hold him up, so she lowered him slowly to the ground. As soon as both feet were firmly on the mat, she retracted her magic. Steve stumbled a bit from the loss of sensation, and Wanda nearly fell, but managed to stay up.

“That was great, Wanda!” Steve told her with a huge grin. She smiles back at him. “Okay, Romanov’s turn?”

“Hard pass,” said Natasha. “Steve, she looks like she’s about to faint, and I’m not exactly all geared up.”

“No, in real fight I’m not allowed to get tired. I can do this.”

Natasha shook her head. “No offense, but I don’t want to be the test subject for when you’re not at your best. Just because I can survive a thirty foot drop doesn’t mean I want to.”

Wanda flushed. Of course. That did make sense. “Then I will just, ah, target practice. Fine tune and all that. Yes.”

“Sounds good.” Steve came over and clapped Wanda on the shoulder. “Good work today. Let’s pick it up again tomorrow?”

“Yes. We should.”

“Excellent.” Steve left, presumably for the showers. That uniform might have been protective, but boy did it make him sweat.

“Actually, instead of target practice, why don’t you and I work on hand to hand?” Natasha asked after Steve was gone. “If for some reason you can’t use your magic, you need to know how to defend yourself. We’ve been having Pietro work on it, since his powers are a lot more physical than yours, but I think you should learn some too.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Great.” Natasha smiled. “So, step one. Do you know how to make a fist?”

Natasha led Wanda through some basic punches and kicks, and urged her to practice them for at least an hour and a half every day. She also suggested that Wanda start running every day.

“No offense, but I think running is more of Pietro’s thing.”

“It will build up your stamina and make it a lot easier to run away from a fight if need be. If you want, I can tell Steve you want to go with him every morning.” Natasha grinned.

Wanda groaned. “I think I will just use one of the running machines. One that Pietro hasn’t broken, that is.”

“I guess that works too. All right, let’s go get cleaned up It’s nearly time for dinner, and I think I heard something about pizza. If we get there fast enough, we might actually get some.”

By the time they were out of the shower and changed into comfortable, casual clothes, there were only two boxes of pizza left. Veggie, because although the Avengers were pigs they did actually think about dietary restrictions. But Pietro was reaching toward the boxes, so Wanda snapped them shut with her powers and brought them over. “Pizza?” she asked Natasha when the boxes were safely in her arms.

Natasha laughed. “I would love some.”

Pietro glared at her, but there was no heat behind it. However, he didn’t scoot over to make room on the couch for her like he normally did, so Wanda found herself in a beanbag chair stolen from Sam when he got up to grab something more to drink. “Man,” he said, “that’s cold.”

“That’s what you get for underestimating me.”

“Just go sit with your brother!”

“He is upset with me.” Wanda smirked. “He thinks I have stolen Sarah, the vet assistant.”

“You knew I liked her!” shouted Pietro in Sokovian. Everyone but the pair of them and Natasha looked a little confused and concerned. Natasha just looked amused.

“I didn’t _ask_ her to ask me out to dinner,” Wanda shot back. Natasha snickered and murmured an explanation to Steve. “Face it, we both know you’re just upset because I have way more game than you.”

“How do more girls like you? I thought most people were supposed to be straight!”

“I guess I just have a cuter face.” Wanda shrugged.

“ _We have same face!_ ” Pietro yelled in English. “Because we are twins!”

“Mine is just cuter.” Wanda smiled and took a bite of pizza.

“Hmph.” Pietro threw himself back against the sofa. “See if I save you pizza next time.”

* * *

There was somewhat of a small commotion at the next Shabbat services. By then, Pietro had forgiven her for catching the eye of the vet’s assistant, and had decided to start flirting with a girl who worked at the bank. This was not the cause of the commotion.

Wanda was using the bathroom when she saw someone unfamiliar leaving the men’s room. An unsavory character? She had heard about people sneaking into synagogues to graffiti bathrooms and other areas when no one was around. But she didn’t see any paint cans on him.

That was just when kind Mrs. Kaplan appeared, apparently also looking to use the bathroom, and also spotted the stranger. “Oh! And who is this?” She approached him confidently. The stranger, who clearly did not plan on being noticed, looked a little panicked. He also looked like he needed a shave, Wanda thought to herself. “Wanda, is this a friend of yours?” Mrs. Kaplan asked, holding the stranger’s right arm. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt, but not a nice one, though it was Shabbat. And, gloves? What?

“No, Mrs. Kaplan. I have never seen him before.”

“Really?” She looked up at the stranger. “Were you at services? You should come introduce yourself to everyone!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea--” the stranger started awkwardly, but Mrs. Kaplan interrupted him.

“Nonsense!” she crowed. “We love new people. Don’t we, Wanda?”

“Oh, yes,” Wanda agreed, falling into step on the stranger’s left side. “My brother and our friends moved in just few months ago and we were accepted into community like we’d always been part of it.”

Mrs. Kaplan beamed at her. “See? Come on, then.” She led the stranger out into where everyone was gathered to have their challah and grape juice. “Now, what’s your name, dear?”

“Uh.” The stranger was staring straight ahead, and the look in his eyes was reminiscent of a trapped animal about to bite its own leg off to escape.

Natasha, who’d been chatting with Sarah the vet assistant, looked over and froze. She stormed away from Sarah with absolutely no preamble and grabbed Steve.

“What was that, dear?” asked Mrs. Kaplan.

Pietro was at Wanda’s side in a second. He really had to stop showing off like that in public, she thought, but no one noticed. Well, the stranger might have, with the way he was eyeing her twin.

“I left the stove on,” the stranger blurted out, before shoving away from Mrs. Kaplan and heading toward the nearest exit.

Steve and Natasha were waiting for him just outside the door. And with Wanda and Pietro behind him, though they were still clueless about who he was, he was trapped. None of the civilians were all that interested in following them, but Wanda put up a force field to divert attention anyway.

“What are you doing here, Buck?” Steve asked gently.

“Um,” said Bucky. Oh. That Bucky? Wanda looked at Natasha. Natasha nodded. That Bucky.

He was growing increasingly distressed. Wanda didn’t have to use her powers to know that this man was ready to fight his way out of an awkward situation, and that was exactly what this was shaping up to be.

“We mean you no harm,” Wanda said. Everyone looked very surprised to see her talking. “What is problem in introducing Steve’s best friend to rest of congregation?” she asked. “You are Jewish like rest of us. Well, not Steve, Mr. I-Don’t-Want-To-Convert-I-Just-Want-Full-Experience-Without-Commitment. This guy, am I right?” She chuckled.

Bucky turned all the way around to look at her. “I didn’t wanna bother nobody. I just wanted…” His face screwed up, like he was in pain, or confused, or both.

“Can’t find words?” He nodded. “I can look in your head--”

“NO!” he yelled.

Wanda put up her hands. “All right. I have not done that in long while anyhow. Probably bad idea. Would different language help? We can do Russian, or German, or Polish…”

“Coming here was killing some birds with one stone,” Bucky told her in Russian. “Try to reconcile memories of places like this. See how he is doing. Take back what was stolen.”

Wanda nodded. “That is all?” Bucky tilted his head forward. A yes. “Well then, that is no problem. I think Steve would like to talk to you, but I don’t think anyone will stop you from leaving. If that is what you really want.” Bucky looked very conflicted. “We can give you privacy. You can talk in car, or ask rabbi for private room. Or you can just leave now.”

Natasha quietly translated for Steve. “Bucky, please, talk to me. I know you’re in there. Can you...what do you remember?”

Bucky let out a deep, shuddering breath and looked Steve in the eye. “Your mother’s name was Sarah,” he said. “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

No one but Steve knew what the fuck that meant, but Steve seemed to like it, because he grinned. “I knew it was you. Come on, let’s--let’s go find a private place to talk. Is that okay?”

“Correct me if I am wrong, but I thought he tried to kill you last time you saw each other,” Pietro said to Steve. Bucky tensed up again.

“He also saved my life. Bucky wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

“Mm, I am thinking that those two things do not exactly cancel each other out.” Pietro raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “I am just saying, perhaps leaving you two alone is bad idea.”

“He’s right,” Bucky said lowly. “She’s coming too.” He pointed at Wanda.

“Me?”

“No!” Pietro and Natasha protested at the same time. Pietro Wanda understood, but Natasha? She looked at her. Natasha, normally so cool and unflappable, had the same look as Bucky now, ready to fight.

“What is problem? I can handle myself. I am no longer child. If Bucky tries anything I can handle him, too.” She crossed her arms. Now she and Pietro were matching.

Natasha glared at Steve. He sighed. “I know it’s not ideal, but if she’s willing to do it, you can’t stop her.”

“Rogers,” Natasha started threateningly.

“Romanov,” he replied, expression hard.

“Come on, Bucky. Let’s go see if rabbi will let us use his office,” Wanda said to Bucky, and held out her hand expectantly. He turned back to her, and very hesitantly took her hand in his right. She put down her barrier and took him to the rabbi and asked very politely if they could use his office, as her friend was about to have a panic attack. He gave her the key and told her to take as much time as she needed. She thanked him and took Bucky to the office.

Steve showed up a few minutes later. “If you want, I can make it so I can’t hear what you say,” she informed them. Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. “Extension of whole, hallucination thing. Isolates one sense,” she explained while they were silently deciding what to do.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Steve said. She held her hands up to her ears and sent two thin tendrils of magic into them, making herself temporarily deaf. She settled into the rabbi’s chair. Steve and Bucky sat in the two chairs on the opposite side of the desk. They spoke for about fifteen minutes before Steve signaled for her to fix her ears. She retracted the magic and stood up.

“Are we finished?”

“Yes. Thank you for...being present.”

“What now?”

“Bucky will be returning to the facility with us. He’s free to leave whenever he wants, but for now, he’ll be staying with us.” Steve gave a little smile. Bucky still looked tense, but he’d relaxed minutely throughout his conversation with Steve.

“Excellent. It will be nice to have someone to speak Russian to besides Natasha.” She grinned at Bucky. He did not smile back. This did not discourage Wanda. “Let us go give rabbi his office back.”

The drive back to the facility was awkward. Steve drove, Bucky took shotgun, and Wanda was squished between Natasha and Pietro, neither of whom seemed very pleased. Pietro squeezed her hand the entire ride back. Natasha’s eyes were doing their best to bore holes into the back of Bucky’s head.

“I’m not gonna be the one to tell Sam,” was all she told Steve when she learned Bucky would be returning with them.

* * *

Despite their slightly strained introduction, Pietro liked Bucky. He was quiet, and closed off, but the better he got to know him, the more the man Steve spoke about showed himself. He didn’t seem to know what to make of Pietro in the beginning, probably because Pietro wasn’t very afraid of him, but eventually the lack of fear endeared itself to Bucky.

Pietro wasn’t afraid of much of anything. He could just run away from anything that tried to hurt him or scare him. He was mostly just afraid for Wanda, and she could mostly handle herself, little as he liked to admit it. This did not stop him from pulling Bucky aside one day, and asking him if he could help her learn to fight, in case anything happened.

“I had three little sisters, kid. It’s no problem.”

Besides his sister, Bucky and Sam were Pietro’s two favorite teammates. Hawkeye would have been, but he was never around. And when he was, it was to eat all the food, talk to Natasha, and leave. Steve and Natasha and Vision were fine (well, Vision creeped him out a little, if he was being honest), but they just didn’t mesh better than regular colleagues. And Pietro, like his sister, hated Stark. So, Bucky and Sam. But Sam _hated_ Bucky. And Pietro didn’t know what to do.

“You could always try locking them in a room together until they’re friends,” Wanda suggested. “Natasha has been showing me American television. That is a common solution.”

“Yeah, I’d do that if I didn’t think they were going to kill each other if I did.” He sighed.

The solution came, weirdly enough, in the form of a man the size of an ant. Well, he was sometimes the size of an ant. Sam didn’t like to talk about it. Bucky also seemed pretty ashamed. They’d gone to take on a burglar together, and had their asses handed to them by a guy who was sometimes the size of an ant.

But now they were more comfortable with each other. Before, Sam would barely talk to Bucky, and Bucky wouldn’t try to make him. What was worse was when Sam would directly antagonize him. (“Sam, you got an exercise shirt I could borrow? All mine are in the wash.” “I’ve never worn a shirt in my life.” “Come on, man.”) Now, they were teasing each other. It wasn’t a mean kind of teasing, Wanda reassured Pietro. It was a friendly kind.

“Also, did you ask him to teach me how to fight?”

“Maybe?”

“I was already getting lessons from Natasha. When I told him that, he actually laughed at me, and said Natasha was pretty decent, but if I wanted to learn from a _real_ master, I’d come to him. And then he winked at me? Perhaps someone should send him the memo that I’m only interested in girls.” Pietro didn’t say anything. He had a strange, far off look in his eyes. “Pietro, please don’t try to beat him up for the sake of my honor or whatever.”

“But, Wanda--”

“Pietro, whatever you’re going to say, no. No, Pietro.”

* * *

Sam, because he refused to have the last word, and because the ant guy was kind of an idiot with how he gave them his name, tracked down Scott Lang and made him part of the team. He said it was because Ant Man would be a worthy team member, with how he was able to steal from them so efficiently. Pietro was pretty sure it was because he wanted to be able to kick Scott’s ass on a regular basis.

“So, what did you do before the whole ant thing, again? Lemme guess, you were some kind of artsy type. I’m thinking actor,” Tony said when he first met Scott. He wasn’t very impressed with him at first sight.

“Well, right before the ant thing? Baskin Robbins. But they fired me when they found out I had just gotten out of prison--Baskin Robbins always finds out, as they say. Before thaaaat, I was an electrical engineer for this insurance company. Hacking them and releasing their fraud stuff was the reason I was in prison.”

“Electrical engineer, huh.” Tony crossed his arms and contemplated Scott.

“Yep. And uh, software engineer too.”

“PhD?”

“Masters.”

Tony frowned. “Where from?”

“Berkeley!”

“Hmm.” Tony considered him. “All right. You’re no Banner, but I guess you’ll do.”

“Huh?”

“Wanna see one of the most high tech labs on the East Coast?”

“Well sure, I’d love to, but…”

“But?”

“Well, I mean, Hank said never trust a Stark.” And then Scott grinned at Tony. Everyone else present thought it was hilarious.

Tony worked a muscle in his jaw. “Excuse me. I think I left a bunsen burner on.” And then he stormed off.

“Huh?” Scott looked helplessly to Sam. “What did I do?”

“Tony’s been craving people to talk shop with,” Natasha explained. “Banner’s off the grid, and Foster doesn’t want to leave her lab in London, so he’s been all by himself. He must have figured you’d be on board with being his new lab partner.”

“Lab partner? What is this, high school?” Sam muttered to himself.

“Oh! Should I, uh, go apologize?” He pointed vaguely in Tony’s direction.

“He’ll come back later with something to try to impress you. Just wait until then.” Natasha waved him off.

“All righty then! So, introductions? I’m Scott, Lang, I’m 34 years old, and I can turn really tiny! I can also talk to ants. I like donuts and taking long walks on the beach. I’ve got a kid, who I think I wanna keep out of the whole ‘superhero’ thing for now, and although I know I just ooze sex appeal, unfortunately for you all I am taken.” He looked around the room, eyes lingering on Natasha, Steve, and Pietro. “Or, maybe, unfortunately for me. Actually wait I take that back please don’t tell Hope I said that.”

Wanda rolled her eyes.

“So, if you need someone to get something out of a hard to reach crack, or you need an ant army for any reason, I’m your guy!” he finished. “Well, maybe not any reason. Most reasons, I’m probably gonna be okay with. But let’s keep it PG.”

Scott spoke very quickly, but Pietro and Wanda’s English was improving in bounds, so they caught pretty much all of it. They didn’t know what “keeping it PG” entailed, but it was probably some kind of joke. Sam was snickering into his hand. Bucky didn’t look impressed.

“Question,” said Pietro. Scott perked up. “Are you Jewish?”

Scott gave a weird, confused half-grin. “Dude, how’d you know? Are you like, a telepath, or something? Is that your power?”

“It’s hers, actually.” Pietro jerked a thumb at his sister.

“Oh, you’re the Scarlet Witch! You’re great!” Wanda blushed. “Uh, but why do you ask?”

Pietro shrugged. “Just wondering. Now you goyim are even more outnumbered,” he told Steve.

“Oh man, are a bunch of the Avengers Jewish? Cassie’s gonna be so excited. Wait, who exactly is?”

The twins, Bucky, and Natasha raised their hands. “And Tony, and Dr. Foster and her assistant Darcy.”

Scott fist-pumped. “Yeah! Jew Crew!”

* * *

They received word that Thor would be visiting the next week, and that Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, and Erik Selvig would be accompanying him. Clint would be coming as well, and Scott’s daughter Cassie. Normally, this would have been fantastic news, but they would be coming just as Passover was going to start, and Wanda couldn’t not feed them. But she also couldn’t cook enough food for fourteen people, at least not by herself. (Vision would not be attending. He sent his condolences.)

She did the math and realized she’d have to cook at least three chickens. That alone would have been enough to make her throw in the towel any other day. But Passover was her and Pietro’s favorite holiday, so she made up a shopping list and gave it to Steve.

“Six jars of horseradish? Don’t you think six is maybe too many, Wanda? And what’s this, you need how many apples? You don’t have to do all this, I’m sure someone could deliver enough food for everyone--”

“Do you want good Seder or not? Ask Bucky if he would like to help cook. I am too busy planning cooking to ask him myself.”

Bucky showed up, and told her that while he wasn’t a great cook, he could at least boil her a ton of eggs so she wouldn’t have to do that, at least.

“So you will boil eggs, Pietro will cut vegetables for chicken and soup and apples for charoset…”

Natasha stepped out from behind Bucky. She really had to stop hiding in plain sight like that. “I can bake a sponge cake or two, if you like. I know you had macaroons on your list, but I think Cassie will like cake better.”

“Thank you, Natasha. Text Steve to ask for whatever ingredients you need. Or Sam, Sam went with to help carry bags and pick out good brands. Steve is nice but he still buys fruit from can.” Bucky, setting a pot of water boiling for the first batch of eggs, snorted.

“Surprised you’re letting him near the food at all. Man couldn’t boil water without hurting himself, back in the day. It was my ma and his ma’s biggest disappointment, that I had to patch him up _and_ cook half his meals.”

“Don’t tell him, but I only asked because I knew if anyone could carry three chickens and six pounds of apples at the same time, it was Steve. And I knew there were people around who would like to watch him do it.”

Natasha laughed and Bucky grinned a little. Wanda drew out a table arrangement and wrote a list of instructions for Pietro.

1\. Wash potatoes and carrots and celery  
2\. Cut potatoes and carrots and celery and put them in the three pans where the chickens will go  
3\. Wash lettuce  
4\. Rip up all the lettuce for salad  
5\. Wash and cut up tomatoes for salad  
6\. Wash and core and chop up apples for charoset  
7\. I will do the rest of the charoset  
8\. Wash and rip up parsley  
9\. Entertain Cassie Lang  
10\. Do not attempt to hit on Dr. Foster or Miss Lewis

The cooking part of the list would probably take him ten minutes, maybe up to half an hour if he took his time and chatted with her while she made matzo balls and let the chickens brine in the sink. She’d already started three enormous pots of chicken stock, water, spices, and olive oil quietly simmering on the stove as the broth for the matzo ball soup. She’d have to get some chicken and vegetables in them soon, but they luckily had some roast chicken leftover from a few days ago. She got it out of the fridge and chopped it into smaller, bite sized chunks for the soup.

Most of the cooking and everything would be done tomorrow, though. Boiling eggs, starting soup, chopping vegetables, those would be done by the end of the night to make tomorrow go faster, but for today, she would meet Drs. Foster and Selvig, Miss Lewis, and Cassie Lang.

The moment she appeared in the living room, she was attacked. She just walked in, minding her own business, ready to introduce herself, when there was suddenly a child clutching at her legs, yelling something. She froze up for a second.

“Cassie! What did we talk about?”

The kid released Wanda. “Don’t grab people without asking them first,” she mumbled.

“It’s--It is fine.” Wanda crouched down before the child. “You must be Cassie. I’m Wanda.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Miss Wanda!” Cassie said. It sounded slightly rehearsed. “I’m Cassie! You’re my favorite Avenger!”

Wanda smiled. “Even over your father?”

“Yeah! ‘Cause you can do magic! You’re just like Hermione, and she’s the best.”

“Who is...Hermione?”

“From Harry Potter!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t…”

“You haven’t seen the Harry Potter movies?” When Wanda shook her head, Cassie sighed loudly. “My daddy has failed you,” she told Wanda solemnly.

“Harry Potter...were they books, too?” Cassie grinned and nodded. “I think I read those a long time ago when I was living in Sokovia. I only read the first few. I do not know what happened. Hermione was the friend who was a girl, yes? The smart one? I am very flattered that you would compare us.”

“You’re welcome,” said Cassie smugly. “Dr. Jane is really smart like Hermione, too. Have you met Dr. Jane?” Wanda shook her head. “Okay, she’s right over here. Let’s go meet her.” Wanda stood all the way up and Cassie led her over to a pair of brunette women sitting on the couch, chatting with Scott and Thor.

“Hello, I’m Wanda,” she greeted when Cassie had their attention.

The one with shorter, straightened hair rose to shake her hand. “Dr. Foster. This is my assistant, Darcy,” she gestured to the other woman, who was doing something on her phone, “and may I just say, it is lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“If you don’t mind, I actually, uh, have a few questions about your powers…”

“Jeez, Jane, buy a girl a drink before you start interrogating her about her powers, wouldya?” drawled Darcy. Jane went red.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, Darcy’s right, I should have gotten more than your name before--”

“Is fine. Pietro and I are used to scientists and their questions.” It was meant to be reassuring, but all the blood drained from Jane’s face.

“ _Shit!_ That hadn’t even crossed my mind. We had heard you were...well. I should have remembered before I went all...yeah.”

“Is okay, really! Scientists at SHIELD wanted to run many tests before we came to live here. And we test our new limits every week or so. I am always finding new things I can do with magic, and Pietro is always getting faster and doing things like running on water, getting close to breaking sound barrier. So I do not mind talking about it.”

Jane bit her lip. Darcy watched the exchange with a smirk. At least someone was having fun.

“If you like you could tell me more about yourself first. Equivalent exchange, as they say.” Well, it was something the people on the cartoon Pietro had been watching said. She didn’t know if it was a common saying in English.

“Did she just reference Fullmetal Alchemist oh my god,” Darcy whispered to herself, typing away furiously on her phone. (Wanda would not see it, but Darcy had just tweeted “the scarlet witch is a weeb? things i never knew i needed in my life #86”)

“I don’t know…” replied Jane.

“Then you must help me make dinner tomorrow. How are you with matzo balls? Cassie, would you like to help Dr. Foster and I make matzo balls?”

Cassie gasped. “Yes!”

“Whoa, hold on, can I get in on this action? Because matzo balls are my _shit_.”

“Not in front of the kid, man, come on!”

“What, so Jane can say it, but I can’t?”

“No one can swear in front of my kid! When did Jane say it? Jane, please don’t swear in front of my kid.”

“Sorry!” Jane squeaked. “Yes, but, I think that’s fair. All right.”

“Good, because we need all the help we can get in kitchen tomorrow, with so many people. There are three pots of soup, and three chickens, not even starting on seder plate and desserts. I am having Pietro make salad and do vegetables. Hopefully it will all be done in time.”

Darcy nodded sympathetically. “It’s pretty cool you’re doing all this. You didn’t have to.”

“It is Pesach. Yes I did.”

Darcy smiled at her slowly, like a cat that had found an interesting new toy. Wanda suddenly felt a little self-conscious. “Well, if you need help with _anything_ , let me know.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Wanda. Was she...flirting?

“I’m sure you’ll be a great help,” Wanda shot back smoothly.

Scott coughed awkwardly. “Come on, not in front of my kid,” he protested.

“Wha--Darcy!” Jane smacked her friend on the arm.

“What? Thor’s in town so I’m single. Plus, her brother was totally hitting on me earlier, and not that I don’t appreciate such a fine looking dude, but she’s, you know.” She gestured vaguely to Wanda, who was grinning fully now. “The Scarlet Witch. The _coolest_ Avenger.”

“Careful, Cassie, looks like you have competition for being Wanda’s biggest fan,” Scott told his daughter.

Cassie grabbed Wanda’s hand. “No!” They all laughed.

* * *

“I may have, ah, ‘stolen’ another girl you liked,” Wanda told Pietro later that night.

“You’re a monster,” he replied bitterly.

* * *

Dinner preparations went smoothly the next afternoon. Sam had, thankfully, pointed out all the best brands to Steve, and so there were plenty of fresh, delicious vegetables and fruits and nuts, as well as what was probably a metric ton of matzo. As she thought, the list barely took Pietro any time at all. He helped the girls make matzo balls while they waited for the chickens to finish brining, and Bucky boiled a few dozen more eggs. “I want to make a lot so we can put some in salad, or eat them during reading of haggadah in case anyone gets hungry before dinner is served.” Natasha prepared her sponge cakes on the other side of the kitchen silently while Jane looked after Cassie and Wanda flirted with Darcy.

The seating arrangement that night was like this: Tony at the head of the table with Steve to his right and Natasha to his left. Next to Steve went Bucky, Sam, Thor, Jane, Darcy, and Erik. Next to Natasha went Clint, Pietro, Wanda, Cassie, and Scott. They used the Maxwell House Haggadah.

“It’s the same one as when we were kids, look at this!” Bucky said as he flipped through it, awed. “One free with every purchase,” he sniggered. Steve smiled.

It was the first major holiday the Maximoffs had spent with the Avengers, and they held up pretty well until it was time for the four questions. Then, when little Cassie stumbled through the questions, Pietro nudged Wanda. “Do you remember when we were kids, and we would take turns?” he murmured.

Wanda thought back to their tiny apartment in Sokovia, back when their parents were still alive. Their Seders were never very extravagant, but they did always manage to get through all the important parts. When they got to the four questions, Pietro or Wanda would take the first, and the other would take the second, and they would switch off. Then they would argue about which of the four children the other was. Their parents would always laugh.

Tears formed in Wanda’s eyes. She could see them in Pietro’s as well. Cassie finished what she was saying.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Tony said loudly from the head of the table, “but did someone mention a treasured childhood memory?”

Everyone stared at him. “Okay, yeah, weird segue, but I’ve got something real important to show you. I gotta go get it from the lab, though, but you can just keep going.” He stood up and made to leave.

“But Mr. Stark!” cried Cassie. “You’ll miss the--”

“It’s okay, kid, I’ve been doing this a long time. Mah nishtanah, yadda yadda, be right back.” He bolted.

They were halfway through the third question by the time Tony returned, slightly out of breath, with some kind of metal box under his arm. “Okay, pause,” he told them. “I’ve got something here you’re all gonna like.”

“Can it wait, Tony?” Steve sighed.

“You’re gonna eat those words when you see what this is. Behold.” He set the metal box on the edge of the table, where he could find room. “It shows your memories.”

“Can you explain a little more? Shows your memories?”

“Sure, sure. So, when you connect these to your head,” he pulled a few diodes out and stuck them to his temples, “switch this on, and think really hard about what it is you want to remember…”

A small section of the box slid away and a video started playing on the wall.

_Tony, no more than twelve, sat boredly at a fancy table while a little blonde girl slowly read through the four questions._

_“Can you hurry it up, Sharon?” he asked boredly. “Some of us wanna eat.”_

_Sharon glared at him. “Tony, if you keep that up, you won’t get to eat at all,” a man at the head of the table snapped. Howard, Tony’s father._

_“Oh, be easy on him, Howard, he’s a growing child. Have an egg or some lettuce, Anthony,” a woman with a British accent told Tony._

“Peggy?” Steve murmured.

_“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Aunt Peggy. Sorry, Sharon.” The blonde girl turned up her nose._

The scene went away. Tony pulled the diodes off his head. “Anyone wanna give it a try? How about you, with the hair.” He pointed at Pietro. “Come on, give it a spin.”

“If we can get back to service faster, why not.” Pietro joined Stark at the end of the table and let him put the diodes on his forehead.

“Now, just think really hard about a memory, and...there we go.”

_Pietro, around seven or eight, reading out of a book in Sokovian. “Why is this night different from all other nights?” He recited. “Mah nishtanah halailah hazeh mikol haleilot?” everyone at the table chanted._

_Wanda, next to him, “On all other nights, we eat chameitz and matzo. Why on this night only matzo?” Everyone continued in Hebrew._

_Pietro did the next question ("On all other nights, we eat all vegetables. Why tonight only maror?"), and Wanda the third ("On all other nights, we don't dip even once. Why tonight do we dip twice?"), and they attempted very clumsily to read the last together ("On all other nights, we eat either sitting upright or reclining. Why on this night do we all recline?"). When they finished, the woman at the table said, “Good job, you two. Now, the four types of children. One wicked, one simple, one wise, and one who does not know how to ask.”_

_“Pietro is the simple child,” said young Wanda with her tongue out._

_“Then Wanda must be the wicked child!” Pietro countered._

_“Hey!”_

_“Children, please…”_

The memory flickered away. Pietro sniffled and wiped away a few stray tears that had rolled down his cheeks. When Wanda touched her own cheek, she could see that she was also crying. She wiped away her own tears.

“I told you I’d give you back your parents,” Tony said quietly. “And that, that’s a start, right?”

Pietro sniffled again. “It’s a start, Stark.”

* * *

The rest of the Seder went fine. The food was delicious, Scott got tipsy off his fourth cup of wine, and his daughter found the Afikomen and was gifted a dog-sized robot ant from Tony. “Now Cleopatra will have a friend!” she cried, delighted, and patted the robot on the head.

Cleopatra? Tony mouthed at Scott. Scott shrugged. Long story, he mouthed back.

Wanda was correct, the little girl did like the cake more than the macaroons. “Maybe if they were chocolate they’d be good,” she said when they asked her what she thought.

Someone had found candy fruit slices and those were passed around. Clint tried and failed to sneak about six into his pocket. Natasha smacked him on the hand when she caught him, and Pietro stole them when he wasn’t looking. “Aww, orange slices.”

When dinner was over and everyone started to disperse, Wanda tried to start cleanup, but was stopped by her brother, Steve, and Natasha. “You made whole dinner, Wanda. You do not do dishes.”

“But--”

“We’ve got this covered, Wanda.” And then Natasha kissed Wanda’s cheek, before sashaying off with the entire table’s worth of plates in her hands.

“ _Oh damn_ ,” Darcy stage whispered. “Dude, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have--”

“Neither would I,” Wanda replied faintly, “if I had known.”

“Wait, what? Then that means…” Darcy jumped. “I can’t believe this! That the Black fucking Widow would pull this kind of petty...I mean, I’m _flattered_ , but...agh, no one is going to believe me!” she moaned.

“I’m not sure if _I_ believe you,” Wanda admitted. “Excuse me.”

She went to the kitchen. Natasha was loading the dishes into the huge dishwasher, Steve was scrubbing out the pans the chickens had been in, and Pietro was sorting out leftovers into tupperware containers. When he saw her come in, he said, “Shoo, shoo! Go relax with the child and the others.”

Natasha was smirking at her.

“What was that?” Wanda asked her. “Why did you do that?”

The smirk slipped.

“If I overstepped my bounds at all, I...perhaps I was reading your signals incorrectly. I’m--”

“Did you only do that because of Darcy?”

“I will admit that was part of it, yes.”

Wanda inhaled. “I wish you had not waited so long.”

“Hmm.” Natasha considered this. “Steve, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“What?”

Natasha handed Steve the rest of her stack of dirty dishes, wiped her hands off on a stray towel, and approached Wanda. She was careful about it, walking in the same way one might when they found an injured animal.

Wanda, impatient, met her halfway. She placed a hand on Natasha’s cheek. “We ought to make up for lost time.”

“Hmm. I agree.”

They kissed.

* * *

Pietro was ecstatic. “You can’t steal any more of the girls I like, because you have a _girlfrieeend_ ,” he told her in a singsongy voice. “But I am happy for you. The two of you have been dancing around this for ages. I am glad it finally happened.”

Steve was a little chagrined he’d been left with all the dishes, but he did seem very happy for them. “Maybe now she’ll stop trying to set me up with people,” he joked. (“Not on your life, Rogers!”)

Darcy took it all remarkably well. “When Thor goes back to Asgard, I’ll go back to dating Jane. We have a whole, schedule. Arrangement. It’s not bad, all things considered.”

Tony saw the two of them holding hands and called, “Hot.” Sam, standing behind him, smacked him upside the head.

“Good for you two,” Sam said.

“Fucking finally,” Clint said, and took a sip of wine straight out of a short, square bottle that read “Manischewitz.” “Agh, what the hell is this? It tastes like grape jelly.”

Cassie thought it was very cool that the two lady Avengers were dating. “My friend Esther has two moms!” she chirped. Scott congratulated them, and told them it was time for Cassie’s bedtime.

“It’s really good that you guys are here to be role models for the kids, though. I think a lot of our lives would have been easier if we’d known same gender relationships were okay as kids. I probably wouldn’t have cut my hair like that back in high school.” He had a faraway expression. “I don’t know why I thought I’d look straighter with it. But! Like I said. Bedtime, Peanut.”

Bucky looked confused, like he wasn’t sure which of them to give the shovel talk to. Thor congratulated them, and then congratulated Wanda much more profusely on the dinner. It was the sixth time that night he did so.

“What? Oh, that’s nice,” said Jane, clearly distracted by some kind of star chart on her phone.

“Lovely,” said Erik, looking at the same star chart.

After a bit more wine and chatter (in low voices so as to not wake up Cassie), the Avengers all drifted off to bed. Natasha walked Wanda to her door.

“Can I see you again tomorrow, Miss?” she asked seriously. Wanda giggled.

“You may.”

“May I also give you a goodnight kiss?”

Wanda smiled softly. “You may.”

Natasha leaned in and kissed her. Her lips tasted of wine, the good stuff mixed with the Manischewitz they all felt obligated to drink, as well as charoset and horseradish.

“Good night,” Natasha murmured.

“Good night.”

* * *

_Epilogue_

It was summer, and they were back in New York City. The Avengers were holding a fundraiser for victims of an earthquake, or maybe a flood, Wanda wasn’t entirely sure. It was at the same banquet hall the first one had been in, and the twins were looking forward to it no more than they had the first one.

“Planning on sneaking out?” Natasha asked fifteen minutes in, while Wanda was looking for Pietro.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then. Yes. We would like to go back to the synagogue in, what was it called, Hell’s Kitchen? Reconnect with people we met last time.”

“Sounds fun. I’m coming too.”

“I am not sure if Pietro will be able to carry both of us.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “We’ll take a car. You realize it’s raining right?”

“Usually he goes fast enough that we do not get wet!” Wanda protested, but Natasha was smiling. Oh.

“Follow my lead.” Natasha placed her hand low on Wanda’s back and led her gently through the crowd. “Do the people at this synagogue know you? Who you are?”

“One may have suspected, but I do not think he drew any solid conclusions.” Natasha took a champagne flute from a waiter. Wanda took a mini quiche.

“That’s good. It’s more fun that way.”

Natasha greatly enjoyed her years of espionage experience and relative fame to mess with people. She confided to Wanda, once, that she was always catfishing at least 4 people at any given time, just to keep up practice with creating and maintaining aliases. She then had to explain what catfishing was, that her hobby had nothing to do with their relationship, and then they watched the show until they fell asleep.

They caught Pietro and were almost out when they were caught by Steve. “Thought you could sneak out without me?”

“Of course not. Where’s Bucky?”

“He’s back home. When Tony told him he wanted him to come to this he laughed in his face. I guess that was that.”

“We should try that next time,” Pietro muttered to Wanda. She hummed in agreement.

Like last time, they arrived just before services were starting and sat in the very back. This time Wanda and Pietro could pick out the people they’d seen before. Foggy, seated between a blonde woman and a taller man with dark hair and glasses. Malcolm, on the other side of the sanctuary, with a woman who had black hair and was wearing a leather jacket. Classy.

They found them after the service. “Well, long time no see!” crowed Foggy. Natasha had slipped away to freshen up, or talk to someone, it was unclear. “How’s New York been treating you?”

“Very well. Thank you, Mr. Nelson. I hope you don’t mind, we brought some friends with us tonight. That is our friend Steve, over there.” They pointed at Steve, who was standing a little ways away, so Foggy couldn’t see exactly who he was.

“Oh, looks like he’s talking to my friend Matt! Matt’s that business partner I told you about.”

“Pro bono?”

Foggy nodded. “And, Catholic, but I make him come along sometimes, get a fresh perspective.”

“I think he and Steve will get along well. Steve is also Catholic.”

“Small world.”

Wanda and Pietro could hear Steve and Matt’s conversation. “Your voice sounds familiar, have we met?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you some kind of famous person, then? It’s hard to tell without being able to, well, see.”

“Oh, gosh, I’m just a guy from Brooklyn.”

“Maybe I bumped into you on the street once.”

“Maybe.”

Malcolm slid into their conversation with Foggy. “Don’t look now, but I think Jessica is being interrogated by _the Black Widow_.”

Wanda and Pietro exchanged smirks. Oh boy.

“Where?” Foggy craned his look and looked around the room.

“By the doors to the bathroom, but don’t be obvious about it, dude, jeez! Do you think it has something to do with the whole…” Malcolm mimed punching, “thing.”

“Relax, there’s no way that’s her. The Black Widow wouldn’t be here. You’re just seeing stuff.”

Foggy’s friend Matt took this time to walk over with Steve and the blonde woman Foggy had been with earlier. She was very tall in her heels and had a look of anticipation and glee on her face. “Foggy, have you met Matt’s new friend Steve?” she asked, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Huh?” Foggy looked up at Steve. Steve smiled. “Holy shit you’re Captain America.”

“What?” went Matt. Wanda and Pietro laughed. Foggy turned on them.

“You two! You know Captain America! Wait, is that _actually_ the Black Widow over there? What the hell, who are you two?”

“I am Pietro, this is my twin sister Wanda. Did we forget to give names last time?”

“Y-You’re the Scarlet Witch!” He pointed at Wanda. “And you’re the other one, who can run really fast!”

Pietro frowned. “Quicksilver.”

“Sorry, sorry. What are you guys doing here? Don’t you laugh at me, Murdock, there is _nothing_ ironic about this situation at all!”

Natasha joined them, accompanied by Malcolm’s friend in the leather jacket, Jessica. “Did I miss anything?” she asked Wanda, before kissing her on the cheek.

“Just a few introductions.”

Foggy looked like he was about to have a conniption, Karen looked like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or be severely intimidated by them all, Matt wasn’t looking right at any of them, but somehow still seemed to be sizing them up, Malcolm looked like he didn’t want anyone to try to talk to him right at that moment, and Jessica just looked pissed off.

“What are half the Avengers doing in a synagogue in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen?” she asked.

“Paying our respects to God?” tried Pietro. She sneered at him.

“Eating delicious challah,” offered Wanda.

“Just having a nice evening,” said Steve cheerfully.

“I need a drink,” muttered Jessica. “Malcolm, come on.” She dragged Malcolm off, presumably out of the synagogue, as there was no real wine to be found tonight.

“Well, we’d love to stay and chat a little longer, but unfortunately we have a prior engagement, and if we don’t get to it we’ll have to deal with a jilted Tony Stark. It was lovely to meet you all,” Natasha said smoothly.

“Uh, yes, you too, Miss, um, Widow?” tried Karen.

“Natasha is fine.” Natasha smiled beatifically. “Let’s go, guys.”

They left, leaving an entire awed law firm in their wake. About ten seconds after they stepped away, one Marci Stahl came up Foggy Nelson. “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” His mouth snapped shut. “What, did I miss the circus or something while I was in the bathroom?”

“Marci,” he said, “you are _never going to believe what just happened to us._ ”

Half a block down the street, Malcolm finally asked through the din of the pouring rain, “So what’d the Black Widow want with you, anyway?”

“Oh, she was trying to sell me some crap about how one of the guys on the team was being mind controlled for years or something, and that if I wanted someone to talk to I should give him a call.” She shrugged. “Probably just some bullshit way of getting me to give her info on Kilgrave, for, I don’t know, filing purposes or something.”

“You should try giving the guy a call anyway, I think. Who knows? Maybe she was telling the truth.”

“Yeah right.” She didn’t mention the card that was pressed into her hand, the one that was now zipped up in her jacket pocket. “Whatever. Let’s go get drunk.”

Steve drove their group back to the fundraiser, though it ended up that he was the only one who went back. “I texted Stark, he says it’s fine if we head back to the hotel,” Natasha told him, before sliding into the driver’s seat. Wanda got out and took shotgun. Her girlfriend was many things, but she was not, as she had told them months ago, a chauffeur.

“I liked your friends,” Natasha told Wanda once they were back in their room. “Do you think we should go again?”

“Absolutely. Maybe next time we should bring the whole team.”

Natasha grinned wickedly. “Now there’s an idea.” She kissed Wanda.

If someone had told Wanda months ago that this would be her life, the luxury, the stability, the love, she would have laughed in their face. But that did not mean that she was not glad for it, and did not thank God for it, every single day.

**Author's Note:**

> check out paul rudd’s ridiculous high school era mullet leefah here: http://cdn7.viralscape.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Paul-Rudd.jpg
> 
> man i haven't been to services or just around other jewish people in general in months. also didn't get to go to a seder, would you believe this country only has one chabad house and it's a few hundred miles away? thanks, japan. so please excuse vagueness/errors (or pm me so i can fix 'em)
> 
> hmu @ lydiawhinesaboutfanfiction.tumblr.com (my fic blog)


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